The road to Utopia is the road to Hell. — Communism and socialism are the opiates of the intelligentsia. — The left, in its eternal and futile quest for "equality", is more than willing to abolish liberty and sunder fraternity.

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Thoughts of Winter

As I welcome summer to central Texas — after a rainy fall, a drizzly winter, and an unusually cool spring — I reflect on the seasons and their associations. Winter, much as I dislike it — even in the relative warmth of central Texas — has its compensations:

I have had enough of wisdom, and enough of mirth,For the way’s one and the end’s one, and it’s soon to the ends of the earth;And it’s then good-night and to bed, and if heels or heart ache,Well, it’s sound sleep and long sleep, and sleep too deep to wake.

From Wanderer’s Song, by Arthur Symons (1865-1945)

The Lord knows what we may find, dear lass,And the Deuce knows what we may do —But we’re back once more on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail,We’re down, hull-down, on the Long Trail — the trail that is always new!

From The Long Trail, by Rudyard Kipling (1869-1936)

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,Love and desire and hate:I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses;Out of a misty dreamOur path emerges for a while, then closes Within a dream.

I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,But when the feast is finish’d and the lamps expire,Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,Yes, hungry for the lips of my desire;I have been faithful to thee Cynara! in my fashion.

From Non Sum Qualis Eram Bonae sub Regno Cynarae, by Dowson

Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom and Charley,The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter?All, all, are sleeping on the hill.

One passed in a fever,One was burned in a mine,One was killed in a brawl,One died in a jail,One fell from a bridge toiling for children and wife —All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.

From The Hill, by Edgar Lee Masters (1869-1930)

The beauty, shattered by the lawsThat have creation in their keeping,No longer trembles at applause,Or over children that are sleeping;And we who delve in beauty’s loreKnow all the we have known beforeOf what inexorable causeMakes Time so vicious in his reaping.

From For a Dead Lady, by Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869-1935)

“For Auld Lang Syne.” The weary throat gave out,The last word wavered, and the song was done.He raised again the jug regretfullyAnd shook his head, and was again alone.There was not much that was ahead of him,And there was nothing in the town below —Where strangers would have shut the many doorsThat many friends had opened long ago.

From Mr. Flood’s Party, by Robinson

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.Because your lover threw wild hands toward the skyAnd the affrighted steed ran on alone,Do not weep.War is kind.

From War Is Kind, by Stephen Crane (1871-1900)

Time, you old gipsy man,Will you not stay,Put up your caravanJust for one day?….

Last week in Babylon,Last night in Rome,Morning and in the crushUnder Paul’s dome;Under Paul’s dialYou tighten your rein —Only a moment, and off once again;Off to some cityNow blind in the womb,Off to anotherEre that’s in the tomb.

From Time, You Old Gipsy Man, by Ralph Hodgson (1871-1962)

Take up our quarrel with the foe;To you from falling hands we throwThe torch; be yours to hold it high.If ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies growIn Flanders fields.

From In Flanders Fields, by John McCrae (1872-1918)

And they that rule in England,In stately conclave met,Alas, alas for England,The have no graves as yet.

From Elegy in a Country Churchyard, by Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1956)

Some say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I’ve tasted of desireI hold with those who favor fire.But if it had to perish twice,I think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction iceIs also greatAnd would suffice.

Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost (1874-1963)

Pocahontas’ body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red hawin November or a paw-paw in May, did she wonder, doesshe remember? . . . in the dust, in the cool tombs?

From Cool Tombs, by Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)

“We are earth’s best, that learnt her lesson her.Life is our cry. We have kept the faith!” we said;“We shall go down with unreluctant treadRose-crowned into the darkness!” . . . Proud we were,And laughed, that had such brave true things to say,— And then you suddenly cried and turned away.

From The Hill, by Rupert Brooke (1887-1915)

Heart, you were never hot,Nor large, nor full like hearts made great with shot;And though your hand be pale,Paler are all which trailYour cross through flame and hail:Weep, you may weep, for you may touch them not.

From Greater Love, by Wilfred Own (1893-1918)

Stick your patent name on a signboardbrother — all over — going west — young manTintex — Japalac — Certain-teed Overalls adsand land sakes! under the new playbill rippedin the guaranteed corner — see Bert Williams what!Minstrels when you steal a chicken justsave me the wing for if it isn’tErie it ain’t for miles around aMazda — and the telegraphic night coming on Thomasa Ediford — and whistling down the tracks a headlight rushing with the sound….

From The Bridge (“The River”), by Hart Crane (1899-1932)

Leave nowThe shut gate and the decomposing wall:The gentle serpent, green in the mulberry bush,Riots with his tongue through the bush —Sentinel of the grave who counts us all!

From Ode to the Confederate Dead, by Allen Tate (1899-1979)

It’s no go the merry-go-round, it’s no go the rickshaw,All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.Their knickers are made of crepe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with heads of bison….

It’s no go my honey love, it’s no go my poppet;Work your hands from day to day, the winds will blow the profit.The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall for ever,But if you break the bloody glass you won’t hold up the weather.

From Bagpipe Music, by Louis MacNeice (1907-1963)

And you, my father, there on the sad height,Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.Do not go gentle into that good night.Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

From Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night, by Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)

But those thoughts are for the melancholy and nostalgic reveries of winter. I now rejoice in glorious summer:

Into the rooms flow meadow airs,The warm farm baking smell’s blown round.Inside and out, and sky and groundAre much the same; the wishing star,Hesperus, kind and early born,Is risen only finger-far;All stars stand close in summer air,And tremble, and look mild as amber;When wicks are lighted in the chamber,They are like stars which settled there.

Comments & Correspondence

Comments close 30 days after the publication of a post. If a post is no longer open for comment, or if you prefer to communicate privately, you may e-mail me at the Germanic nickname for Friedrich followed by the last name of the great Austrian economist and Nobel laureate whose first name is Friedrich followed by the 3rd and 4th digits of his birth year followed by the usual typographic symbol followed by the domain and extension for Google’s e-mail service — all run together.

If you submit a comment or suggestion by e-mail, I may acknowledge it or use it on this blog. But I may paraphrase what you say or edit it for the sake of concision, clarity, coherence, or brevity. I will not use your name unless you specifically authorize me to do so. Even then, I will put quotation marks around your name unless I am certain of your identity.

On Liberty and Libertarianism

What is liberty? It is peaceful, willing coexistence and its concomitant: beneficially cooperative behavior.

John Stuart Mill opined that "the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others." But who determines whether an act is harmful or harmless? Acts deemed harmless by an individual are not harmless if they subvert the societal bonds of trust and self-restraint upon which liberty itself depends.

Which is not to say that all social regimes are regimes of liberty. Liberty requires voice -- the freedom to dissent -- and exit -- the freedom to choose one's neighbors and associates. Voice and exit depend, in turn, on the rule of law under a minimal state.

Liberty, because it is a social phenomenon and not an innate condition of humanity, must be won and preserved by an unflinching defense of a polity that fosters liberty through its norms, and the swift and certain administration of justice within that polity. The governments in and of the United States have long since ceased to foster liberty, but most Americans are captives in their own land and have no choice but to strive for the restoration of liberty, or something closer to it.

Who can restore liberty? Certainly not the self-proclaimed libertarians who are fixated on Mill's empty harm principle and align with the left on social norms. Traditional (i.e., Burkean) conservatism fosters the preservation and adherence of beneficial norms (e.g., the last six of the Ten Commandments). Thus, by necessity, the only true libertarianism is found in traditional conservatism. I am a traditional conservative, which makes me a libertarian -- a true one.

Notes about Usage

“State” (with a capital “S”) refers to one of the United States, and “States” refers to two or more of them. “State” and “States,” thus used, are proper nouns because they refer to a unique entity or entities: one or more of the United States, the union of which, under the terms and conditions stated in the Constitution, is the raison d’être for the nation. I reserve the uncapitalized word “state” for a government, or hierarchy of them, which exerts a monopoly of force within its boundaries.

Marriage, in the Western tradition, predates the state and legitimates the union of one man and one woman. As such, it is an institution that is vital to civil society and therefore to the enjoyment of liberty. The recognition of a more-or-less permanent homosexual pairing as a kind of marriage is both ill-advised and illegitimate. Such an arrangement is therefore a “marriage” (in quotation marks) or, more accurately, a homosexual cohabitation contract (HCC).

The words “liberal”, “progressive”, and their variants are usually enclosed in quotation marks (sneer quotes) because they refer to persons and movements whose statist policies are, in fact, destructive of liberty and progress. I sometimes italicize the words, just to reduce visual clutter.

I have reverted to the British style of punctuating in-line quotations, which I followed 40 years ago when I published a weekly newspaper. The British style is to enclose within quotation marks only (a) the punctuation that appears in quoted text or (b) the title of a work (e.g., a blog post) that is usually placed within quotation marks.

I have reverted because of the confusion and unsightliness caused by the American style. It calls for the placement of periods and commas within quotation marks, even if the periods and commas don’t occur in the quoted material or title. Also, if there is a question mark at the end of quoted material, it replaces the comma or period that might otherwise be placed there.

If I had continued to follow American style, I would have ended a sentence in a recent post with this:

What a hodge-podge. There’s no comma between the first two entries, and the sentence ends with an inappropriate question mark. With two titles ending in question marks, there was no way for me to avoid a series in which a comma is lacking. I could have avoided the sentence-ending question mark by recasting the list, but the items are listed chronologically, which is how they should be read.

This not only eliminates the hodge-podge, but is also more logical and accurate. All items are separated by commas, commas aren’t displaced by question marks, and the declarative sentence ends with a period instead of a question mark.